Not So Difficult After All
by Thinking-Of-A-Dream
Summary: Aaron Hotchner accidentally texts the wrong person, but turns out it was the best thing he could have done, since he gets to meet and fall in love with Spencer Reid. M/M
1. Chapter 1

I know, this isn't a new MOD chapter. This is actually a story I've been working on for a little while now. Originally it was going to just be posted as one whole chapter, but decided it would be better to split it into two. Since it's my first in the Criminal Minds fandom, I hope it has turned out okay!

Thanks so much to blueandie for beta-reading this story for me!

I might do another story in this fandom, haven't decided yet.

Enjoy and please let me know what you think!

* * *

Aaron Hotchner stands in the middle of the room, reading through the lab report in his hand for what seems to be the third time, a frown marring his face. The results in front of him don't make much sense to him, but clearly the victim was in the middle of some type of ritual. The type of ritual though, Hotch isn't sure.

The crime scene unit had already went through and collected the evidence by the time Hotch arrived, among the items being a small handful of different herbs that he doesn't recognize. He had glanced at them briefly before beginning to look through the report and assorted crime scene photos. The dimly lit room surrounded by candles, the eerie glow coming through the window above the altar and showing the body placed kneeling in front of the altar, hands clutched around a pouch. The following photo shows the pouch opened, the herbs peeking through the edges. It becomes increasingly clear to Hotch that the herbs hold significance in the ritual, but the meaning behind it is lost on him.

Sighing faintly, he turns back to a half finished text to Rossi. Hotch is hoping his colleague will have an idea of what these herbs could be used for. He has already sent the information to Garcia, but she hasn't had any luck in finding the ritual yet. It could be a key part of the case, so having more than one brain thinking it over is beneficial. Glancing at the paper one last time, Hotch adds the last few herbs to the list in the message.

_Found these herbs in a little pouch, victim was sitting at an altar with it in his hand: Sage, Lavender, Marjoram, Garnet gemstone, and Rose Quartz. Sandalwood and Frankincense were burning in an incense holder. Recognize any of these? Already sent to Garcia._

He hits the send button, knowing Rossi will reply as soon as he can. Calling would have been much quicker, but Hotch prefers fewer distractions while in the middle of a crime scene. He can remain aware of his surroundings better when not trying to listen to someone over the phone. By the time Hotch is back at the station and in the room they're set up in, Rossi has already replied, even sent more than a single message. He sits down in an empty chair, Prentiss and Morgan going over the town's map nearby.

"What..." Hotch blankly stares at the messages, not expecting how long it is, nor the amount of detail in the explanation. Checking the number he sent it to, Hotch berates himself internally. Rossi had gotten a new number recently and Hotch has yet to save it into his phone. In his rush to type out the number from memory, he'd accidentally hit the three instead of four at the end, not bothering to double check before hitting the send button. Curious though, he reads over the stranger's reply, eyebrows rising to his hairline.

"Hotch? What is it?" Prentiss asks, noticing the older Agent's expression.

Morgan turns from the map as well, frowning in confusion. "Did something happen?" he asks, ready to head out the door at a moment's notice. Hotch gives a negative though, and Morgan's shoulders relax slightly.

"I sent a message meant for Rossi to someone else accidentally, but they appear to know a lot about herbs and rituals."

"Is that a bad thing?" Prentiss questions, sitting across from him.

"I don't know," Hotch slides his phone to her, letting her read the messages, Morgan glancing over her shoulder.

_I am pretty sure you've got the wrong person, since I don't know anyone named Garcia. The question seems important though, so what's the harm in answering it? Sage, or Salvia officinalis by its scientific name, is a perennial, evergreen sub-shrub, with woody stems, grayish leaves, and blue to purplish flowers. It is a member of the mint family Lamiaceae and native to the Mediterranean region, though it has naturalized in many places throughout the world. In some rituals it's used for cleansing, purification, alleviating grief as well as sorrow. _

_Lavender, or Lavandula angustifolia, is a perennial shrub or shrub-like plant. Their Leaf shape is diverse across the genus. They are simple in some commonly cultivated species; in other species they are pinnately toothed, or pinnate, sometimes multiple pinnate and dissected. In most species the leaves are covered in fine hairs or indumentum, which normally contain the essential oils. Flowers are held on spikes rising above the foliage, the spikes being branched in some species. The flowers may be blue, violet or lilac in the wild species, occasionally blackish purple or yellowish. They have a lot of uses, such as promoting sleep and battling depression._

_Marjoram, or Origanum majorana, is a somewhat cold-sensitive perennial herb or under-shrub with sweet pine and citrus flavors. Their leaves are smooth and simple, petiolated, ovate to oblong- ovate with numerous tiny hairs. Its use in rituals includes easing grief and restoring happiness. _

_Garnet gemstones are a silicate crystal in hues of red, burgundy and green found throughout the world. These gemstones are used to balance energy, and raise emotions to a higher vibration. They also attract happiness and help with purification, including aligning the spiritual and physical self. _

_Rose quartz are pink crystalline masses found in India, Madagascar, and Brazil. It aids in the processing of grief and anger, eases pain through detoxification. Can also be used to protect against nightmares. _

_As for Sandalwood, it promotes relaxation, heightens spiritual energy and invokes passed souls. When burned as incense with Frankincense it raises energetic vibrations and makes it easier to connect with spirit guides or enlightened spirits. _

_This specific ritual is possibly connected to the Wiccan religion. Wicca is typically duo theistic, worshiping a Goddess and God, but also ranges from polytheism, pantheism or monism. Your victim was grieving at the time of his or her death, doing a ritual to try and help ease the pain of losing someone. _

"Wow," Prentiss lets out a small whistle, Morgan nodding in agreement. She is about to say something else when the phone in her hands starts to ring. Quickly answering and putting Garcia on speaker, Prentiss places the phone between the three of them.

"So, I looked up all those plants and it seems they are connected to some sort of Wiccan ritual for grieving. I would explain all the extra details but there's so much of it, it'd take forever. Aside from that, I can say that Wicca is a nature-based religion that typically follows a Goddess and God, but some of them follow a lot more than just two." Garcia mutters, wonder over the Wiccan ritual coating her voice as she talks.

"Well whaddya know, mystery dude was right," Morgan chuckles, shaking his head slightly in surprise.

"Mystery dude? What mystery dude?" Garcia perks up, grin easily heard through the phone, as though she could taste something interesting happening.

"Hotch texted the wrong number earlier and the person on the other side sent back 7 detailed messages answering what those herbs were," Prentiss answers, grinning. Hotch tugs his phone back into his possession, sighing in the process.

Garcia speaks up again, excitement over the mystery guy still at the forefront of her mind. "I can totally look for the-" Her voice is cut off as Hotch switches from speaker mode, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Thanks Garcia, but I'd rather you didn't," Hotch spoke easily, hanging up as Garcia grumbled about missing out on all the fun.

He turned back to the room with a raised eyebrow, signalling the end of the discussion and a return to work. "Have you found anything else regarding this case?" Both agents shook their heads before heading out of the room. Morgan moves a bit slower than Prentiss, catching Hotch as he types out a reply to the stranger.

"Are you sure that's a good idea Hotch? You don't know who this person is," Morgan questions, pausing in his steps.

"It's fine Morgan, I doubt we will talk again after this anyway." He replies.

"Actually I think it's a good idea, they could be useful." Prentiss says while glancing over her shoulder, taping a picture to the board.

Hotch glances at the picture. "Is that our most recent victim?"

"Yeah, they found her two hours ago. The only connection between the victims that we've been able to find so far is that they are religious. All of them had either been in the middle of a ritual or prayer, or just finished."

"So we've got a ritualistic unsub?" Morgan questioned.

"Not necessarily," Hotch states.

"What do you mean?" Prentiss turns her full attention to the other two men.

"While the victims are just finishing or in the middle of a prayer, this doesn't really mean the unsub is killing as a ritual itself," Hotch replies as Rossi enters the room.

As he sits, Rossi asks, "Have you found anything else?"

"Well, we might have something. Prentiss could you go find J.J. and have her join us? It will be quicker to explain once." Prentiss nods, leaving to locate their liaison. It only takes a couple minutes, and they walk back into the room as Garcia answers her phone.

"Hello my lovelies, what can I do for you?" Garcia questions, a teasing lilt to her voice.

"I wished to get everyone's opinion before continuing anything. I had meant to text Rossi earlier today about the items found in the pouch early this morning and accidentally got the wrong number. Normally I wouldn't say anything but the person who got the message replied back soon after, and their response was completely accurate. Garcia has confirmed it. I want to make sure everyone knows about this before I say anything else to the other person," Hotch finishes, looking at his team members. Morgan is the only one with a slight frown, Prentiss and J.J. both smiling while Rossi looks amused.

"I think you should keep talking to this mystery person," Garcia hums. "In the meantime this girl's gotta go." The phone gives a small click, Garcia hanging up.

"Thank you for letting us know, Hotch. You should do what you wish to. Just be careful," J.J. says before heading out of the room. Prentiss follows with a small nod to Hotch.

"I don't know man, still think it's risky but it's up to you." Morgan shrugs, following the girls out.

"Don't look at me, Morgan is right - it's up to you." Rossi grins, watching as Hotch sighs and looks down at the message he had typed out earlier, hitting send.

_Thank you for your response, it helped a lot. You seem to know quite a bit about this. We think it might be a ritualistic murder, what do you think? _

Hotch doesn't get a reply until he is about to go to sleep later that night.

_It doesn't necessarily have to be ritualistic. More likely it's either visionary or mission oriented._

* * *

The next morning Hotch, using that train of thought, takes his team through everything they know about the unsub so far. Within a few hours they had gathered all the information necessary to move forward.

"We're ready to give the profile," Hotch says to the lead detective on the case, who nods and begins gathering those in the station. It doesn't take long after that to track down the unsub, successfully getting them into custody: a 37-year-old woman who had a psychotic break after the brutal death of her husband and two kids in a house fire while she wasn't home. She began hallucinating spiritual people as the Devil - with horns, tail, and red eyes. Thinking it would bring her family back, she began killing them. However, when it failed to work, she killed again, beginning a ruthless cycle.

At the end of the day though, the team was just glad it was over and all were eager to be back home, in their own beds.

* * *

Spencer Reid had just entered the police station, heading for a nearby office occupied by one person, when his phone went off with a message. The sound made him jump slightly; hardly anyone texted him, most of the people he talks to prefer calling. Reid stops a few steps from his destination, opening the text from an unknown number. The contents make him frown slightly, worrying his lip in confusion, unsure who 'Garcia' is or why he got the message in the first place.

"What's wrong Reid?" Robertson asks, having noticed the young male standing outside his office but not coming in. Spencer's head jerks up, not expecting the question.

"Hi, Robertson. Just, I got a message from someone asking about different herbs but the number isn't one I recognize." Spencer looks back down at his phone, turning it around for the older male to read.

"You should reply. I'm sure that brain of yours already knows the answer the person is looking for." Eli smirks, green eyes full of amusement as he hands the phone back over. "When you're done, meet me in the big room," he calls over his shoulder. Spencer gives an absent nod in agreement, fingers already dancing across the keyboard. He stands there for almost five minutes by the time he's sent the last of a long string of messages - his phone has a limit on message length, one Spencer is currently miffed about. Stuffing the phone away, he heads to the big room where a few others are already waiting.

The room is aptly named. It's a large area in the far back of the building, surrounded by two walls of windows on each side and a brick wall at the back. Unsurprisingly, it was organized in a rather disorderly fashion, just as their forensic officer likes it. The man spent most of his time in the big room going over evidence and lab reports, with his lab situated in the room next to this one, smaller with more equipment.

"Hey Spencer, where'd you go? Usually you are the first one here," Kyle Ramone, the aforementioned forensic officer, said with his quiet voice.

"I was just responding to someone's questions about herbs," Reid smiled as he replied, taking a seat at the small table covered with a map and other bits of paper. "What do we have today?"

"Well, we have two bodies now and it doesn't seem the suspect is slowing down," Olivia stated, pointing at a manila folder. She is Robertson's partner, has been for 7 years. They settle into their seats, talking about the crime scenes so far and the locations.

An hour and a half later Spencer jumps slightly at the sudden tinkling of his phone, signifying a text message. Nervous fingers pulled it from his pocket, opening the message app to read what was said. The less-than-freaked response calms Spencer's nerves, and he contemplates the question, previous task temporarily abandoned.

Their conversation continues sporadically throughout the day, both busy with working, though they don't talk about a whole lot - mostly Reid telling the stranger about how and why butterflies' wings are colored the way they are, that birds' feathers have similarities to butterfly wings. When Spencer gets a message saying the mystery person solved the case, he realizes just how much he's already put into the conversations they had. It brings a knot to Spencer's stomach as one thought flows through his mind: is this the end of our conversation?

Ramone, noticing the slump in Reid's shoulders, worries his lips before standing to ask the young genius if he wants to go to the bookstore tomorrow before coming in to the station. Spencer's response is a quick affirmative; he's been wanting to get a book or five. Something to occupy himself when there's nothing else to do. Playing chess games against yourself can be entertaining for only so long, after all.

Spencer goes to bed that night with confusion and disappointment gnawing at him and invading his dreams.

After solving the case he was consulting for the next day, Spencer heads over to Ethan's house - his longest, and probably only, friend. Parking his old car into the driveway he walks towards the small tan house, smiling faintly at the flowers dotting the border around it. Ethan's fiance had planted them the previous year, declaring the yard to be 'just begging to be given more of life's color.' Ethan hadn't resisted, instead helped pick out what to plant. Since she was away visiting family for a little while, Ethan had decided it was time to have a pizza/game night. Or rather, as Spencer calls it - pizza/Ethan-wins-at-everything night. He doesn't hesitate to walk into the home, Ethan would already know he'd arrived.

"Hey Spence, are you ready to lose?" Ethan grins at him as he enters the front room before turning on the PlayStation and clicking on Mario Kart to start it.

"I am going to win today, Ethan," Spencer scoffs, grabbing the other controller and pressing Start.

The night proceeds like normal, for the most part, only interrupted by the arrival of Papa Johns and then by Reid's phone beeping. Reid, for once, had actually been winning their game, pizza long gone, when he received a text message. The sudden notification sound startles him so badly that Ethan ended up back in the lead, Spencer being too focused on getting his phone out to pay attention to the end of the game. His thoughts immediately turn to the same person who'd sent the earlier text since the only other person who doesn't usually call is sitting next to him, currently staring at Reid in confusion.

"Someone sent you a text message? Feeling so out of the loop right now Spence!" Ethan pouted, even as Spencer finally opened the notification, holding his breath at seeing the unknown number, one he had already memorized.

_Hi, I hope it's okay that I message you again. Even though I don't have any questions to ask at the moment._

Spencer began typing a response, easily agreeing to their continued conversations even without the questions to start one.

"Spencer," Ethan drew out his name, poking Reid in his shoulder.

"Sorry, what?" Spencer asked, blinking from his response.

"Did you get a boyfriend without telling me?"

"Actually..." Spencer began, trailing off at another message arriving.

"Hey, don't leave me wondering!" Ethan groaned.

"No, besides I don't actually know who this person is aside from their occupation." Spencer said, once more hitting the send button.

_Yeah it's fine, I'm usually not too busy._

The quick response has Spencer smiling faintly as he reads it.

_Good. I wouldn't normally talk to a complete stranger, since you could likely be a criminal._

Spencer replies, just as quickly as the other person.

_Actually the likelihood of me being a criminal is slim, based on my childhood and mentality. Even if I were a criminal, you would have a lot of difficulty trying to catch me. _

"That's reckless, Spencer! Do you know the chances of him deciding to stalk you, even kill you?! Wait - don't answer that."

"Well, 1 in every 6 women and 1 out of every 19 men are stalked in their lifetime, just in the U.S."

" - Spence."

"Most victims of stalking actually know their stalker, typically a former or current intimate partner."

" - Spencer."

"Plus those who are of the age 18 to 24 are at a higher risk of being victimized."

"Eugh, that freaking sucks, I didn't need to know the statistics." Ethan scrunches his nose, pushing away the bag of chips he had just been eating.

"You asked, Ethan," Spencer grins, unapologetic. Ethan just huffs in acceptance.

"So, tell me about this person you're talking to. How did it even happen? I thought these things were restricted to movies and books. Oh, what if you two fall in love!? The perfect story!" Ethan let out a loud laugh, head thrown back. Spencer sighs, resigned to his friends romantic side.

"It started yesterday afternoon. They texted the wrong number, asking questions for a case they had been working on. I helped, replied despite the risks. I'm rather glad I did though. It's entertaining talking to them. They are stoic, more than likely male, but have a hidden sense of humor that shows every once in a while. They care about their teammates, like family." Spencer sighs, fiddling with the phone in his hands.

"Sounds like you know a lot for only talking for a day." Ethan's voice is filled with concern, worried but almost glad Spencer has found someone to talk to aside from himself and Reid's work friends.

"It's in the way he texts." Spencer shrugs, getting another message.

_Oh? It's not that easy to evade my team and I :). _

Spencer smiles, quickly replying, Ethan's words distantly registering. "Just be careful Spence, anything could happen regardless of statistics and other facts."

He knows Ethan may be right, but in that moment, Spencer couldn't care less.


	2. Chapter 2

The girls were all huddled together near JJ's desk, watching Hotch walk by looking at his phone, a faint smile curling at his lip.

"Should we be worried for his health?" Prentiss questions, eyes still following their boss.

"Maybe...did we do the wrong thing by suggesting he keeps talking to that person? I assumed it would likely taper out into nothing when the case was finished." JJ frowned, twitching at the sudden snort of amusement from Garcia.

"Oh honey, I wasn't even there in person when this started and I knew." The bright TI grinned at JJ, eyes momentarily glancing at her before turning back to Hotch, who is slowly ascending the steps to his office.

"Knew what?" JJ asks, curious.

"There's something about this person that our Hotch likes, finds _interesting_. He just needed our approval to keep the messages going. Judging by the amount of time before he gets replies, the feeling is definitely mutual."

"How do you know when it's this mystery person replying, or even when Hotch gets a message at all?" Prentiss, curiosity piqued, turns her gaze to Garcia instead. Hotch has likely noticed their staring anyways. Garcia sighs exaggeratedly.

"I thought _you_ were the profiler," she grins. "Nobody replies that quickly with such long messages unless something is up. And judging by how much time it takes Hotch to read the messages, they have to be long."

"What are you lovely ladies up to?" Rossi, having just walked in, asked, eyebrow raised slightly.

"Hey Rossi. What do you think about Hotch texting that mystery person?" JJ smiles gently.

"Hmm, well I have nothing against it, but I am worried about the fallout if something bad were to happen. He's not exactly being careful anymore."

Garcia nods, face serious in her agreement.

"Exactly! So since you agree Rossi, and are a fellow male, it should be your duty to go interrogate your friend." Prentiss states, eyes shining with amusement.

Rossi snorts, leaving the group to go talk to Hotch. It would be a waste to try and argue with one of them, let alone three.

Hotch didn't look up at the gentle tapping on the door-frame, giving a simple "enter."

Rossi, figuring the best approach would be bluntness, clears his throat. "Are you developing feelings for your mystery friend?"

Hotch drops his pen, paperwork forgotten as he quickly looks up.

"What? No. What gave you that idea?" Hotch asks, face not giving anything away.

"Well, the way you act whenever you're talking to them. We support whatever decision you make, just be careful when you do make that decision." Rossi sits in the chair across from Hotch, calmly watching as a crease forms between his friend's brows.

"It's only been a month since we started talking. But I will be careful, plus it hasn't been that long since the divorce."

"Anything can happen in a month, trust me." Rossi grins, Hotch snorting faintly in amusement.

A few hours later, with paperwork finally done for the day, Hotch heads home, knowing someone will call if they get a case. His phone beeps with a message while driving, though Hotch doesn't open it until he's settled inside his house.

_Did you know that milk wagons gave us the white lines on either side of the road? It was devised by a man named Edward Hines in 1911 after seeing drops of milk along the road from a milk wagon. _

_No, I did not. That is interesting, though odd the idea came from spilled milk._

_At least they didn't cry over it being spilled. Actually, the first published citation of "spilt milk" was written in 1659, from a collection of English proverbs by James Howell. Originally it was "shed milk"._

_I didn't know it had been around for so many years. _

_I apologize for saying weird facts, if it annoys you just tell me to shut up and I will. Sometimes I get carried away._

_No, don't apologize. I find it interesting. How did you learn all this stuff though?_

_Ah, I have an eidetic memory. Can't forget anything that I read or hear._

_Can't imagine that's very fun most of the time._

Hitting the send button, Hotch sets his phone down to grab a soda, expecting to have a response by the time he returns to the chair. However, his screen remains blank. Hotch simply shrugs, thinking the other is likely preoccupied. When two minutes stretch to five, he begins to restlessly tap his foot. After fifteen minutes, Hotch was up and pacing the stretch of carpet in front of the TV before grabbing the phone and sending another message.

_I am sorry if I said something inappropriate._

Three minutes and Hotch's phone finally dings. With a sigh of relief he quickly grabs the device and opens it.

_You didn't, I heard a noise coming from my neighbor's house. I am going to go check on them really quick._

Hotch frowned, not sure how to all, they could end up injured or worse.

_Be careful, _is all Hotch can come up with.

_Okay. _

That's the last message sent between them as Hotch readies for bed, realizing it's almost midnight. He busies himself with replacing dirty clothes with clean in his to-go bag, then showers, letting the steam fog up the mirror and warm his chilled nerves. Thirty minutes have gone by as he sits to finish paperwork for the previous case his team finished. It was tedious work, a lot of repeated signatures and a recount of everything that happened to take the unsub in.

Two hours after their last message, Hotch rubs at his nose, feeling sleep encroaching on him as he turns on the TV for a distraction. It doesn't work, unable to stop checking to see if there's a message yet. Just as he begins to fall asleep sitting up, his phone rings, the song _Wayward Son _jerking Hotch back to consciousness. It was the ringtone Garcia picked for work related calls, grinning as she programmed it in. Groaning, he quickly answered, a sharp "Hotchner" leaving his lips.

"_Bad time?" _JJ's voice comes through, concern hidden with amusement.

"Sorry, haven't slept yet." He ran a hand down his face as she sighed, Hotch easily imagining the way she would be shaking her head in exasperation.

"_Unfortunately you might not get to for a little while longer, we just got a high priority case." _

"Okay. Jet?" He asks, quickly grabbing the bag he repacked earlier in the day, suddenly glad to have thought to do so.

"_No, it's a nearby city, we can drive. Can you meet us in 10?" _

"Yeah, I'm on my way." Getting into the car, Hotch speeds to the precinct, thoughts of his missing friend momentarily forced to the side. It is time to focus on a new case.

* * *

The first time Spencer heard the faint thump, he thought it was imagined or an animal outside in the trash. By the third, louder thump though, his attention was caught enough to tell the person he's talking to he'd be back. Knowing about the recent in-home homicides, Spencer stays quiet and alert. He looks around the corner of his front door, searching for any suspects, before a crash sounds from the neighbor's house, followed by a muffled yell. Not sure why no one else has been alerted to the sounds coming from an otherwise peaceful home, he walks over to their door only to find it cracked open.

The stench of blood reaches his nose as Reid walks in, the house now eerily silent. Knowing that isn't a good sign, he moves forward through the entryway and into the living room, quickly spotting the slumped and bloody forms of the married couple. Worry twisted his stomach; they have a 5 year old daughter. Reid refuses to think the word 'had' as he continues into the stairway, reaching right before the kitchen where there's a sudden noise like clicking china.

It's not hard to spot the thin man wearing a mask, holding onto a silently crying child by her hair and hovering a knife near her neck. That is, until the man spots Spencer, panic making the man's eyes go wide, and hand lax enough for the girl to escape into the other room. This makes the male panic more, and before Spencer can do anything there's a knife sticking out of his side and the suspect running out through the back door.

"_Shit." _Spencer thinks, one hand clutching the bleeding wound as the other fumbles with retrieving his phone from the back pocket of his pants, messily dialing 911 as he slides his body down the kitchen wall.

"_This is 911, what's your emergency?"_

"I've - I've been stabbed," Spencer's breath came out in short puffs, a few wet coughs interrupting him - getting the words out became more difficult as he continued to answer the lady's questions.

"_Okay sir, just stay with me, there's help on the way." _She finally says, and despite Spencer's best efforts and the pleading brown eyes of the little girl, he falls into the depths of unconsciousness.

* * *

When he wakes up, it's to the distinct smell of a hospital. He's aware enough to see the nurse looking over his chart, and Ethan sleeping uncomfortably in the chair beside Spencer's bed. Only a few seconds later, he is falling asleep, the pain feeling like a very dull throb until it recedes completely.

The following morning Spencer wakes up completely, and is immediately met with a frowning expression on Ethan's face. It makes Spencer cringe a little inside, sorry to have made his friend so worried.

"Hey," Spencer says, startling Ethan who immediately focuses his eyes on the male laying in the bed.

"Spence… oh thank god. How are you? Any pain? I should call the nurse." Ethan speaks quickly, about to stand up. He stops though when Spencer grabs ahold of his arm with a weak smile.

"No, it's fine. The nurse should be on their way. It's about time for the rotations to check on patients."

"What, no specifics?" Ethan teases, eyebrow raised. Spencer goes to reply, but Ethan raises a hand in silence. "Easy, I would love to hear more about nurse rotations, but you just woke up one hundred percent aware of your surroundings for the first time since the stabbing. Relax, Spencer. The FBI would probably prefer you to be able to answer their questions without you passing out on them."

Spencer sighs, nodding in agreement, just as the nurse walks in and smiles at seeing him awake and talking.

"How are you feeling? Is anything bothering you at all?" the nurse asks, looking over a clipboard.

"None, I'm feeling fine, just a little sore from the wound," Spencer replies.

"Very good, then you will likely be clear to leave tomorrow morning. For safety precautions we want to monitor you for one night now that you are awake, make sure everything is fine." The nurse speaks calmly, marking notes on the clipboard before he leaves the room again.

Only an hour after being released and settled back at home with Ethan watching over him, Spencer is comfortably sat on the couch watching _Animal Planet _when someone knocks on the door. Ethan easily gets up from the chair he was in, not giving Spencer the chance to even twitch.

"Hello?" It's not hard to guess it's the FBI on the steps, badges already out for proof of identity.

"Hi, I'm Emily Prentiss with the BAU, and beside me is Agent Rossi. We are here to see if Spencer Reid is feeling up to answering some questions for us?" Agent Prentiss questions, voice kind and understanding. Ethan sighs, not wanting Spencer to be bothered so soon after getting home.

"I'm sorry, could you come back later? Spencer just got settled and should rest before being interrogated about what happened."

"Oh! Um, of course, when should we -"

"It's okay Ethan, let them in." Spencer's voice drifts in from the nearby front room, Ethan silently standing aside to let the two Agents in despite his reluctance. He glared as they walk past, though it doesn't appear to make any sort of difference. Ethan follows them into the next room, taking a seat on the couch beside Reid, ready to put a stop to the questions the moment his friend looks too tired to continue.

* * *

Prentiss smiled at the male who answered the door, wondering if he's Spencer Reid, but her question is quickly answered when he tries to get them to leave, referring to Reid as a separate person. Rossi stands beside her, silently watching and taking every detail in. She is about to comply to the request to come back later when a soft voice reaches them. The male - Ethan, almost visibly deflates as he moves aside for them to go in.

They enter the home into a tidy living room, a thin male on the couch slowly sitting up with the help of Ethan. A moment later and they are all settled and it's hard for her to not profile both of the men sitting across from her so she focuses more on the questions that need to be answered.

"Good evening Mr. Reid, sorry for the intrusion, but we hope you can answer some questions?" Prentiss asks, as Rossi looks over the nearby bookshelves.

"It's Doctor Reid, actually," Spencer smiles faintly, "but yes."

"My apologies, Doctor Reid," she responds, "can you tell me what happened that night?"

"I had been texting...a friend, when I heard the noises from my neighbor's house…"

The conversation continues for another thirty minutes, Rossi sitting back down five minutes in; he was intrigued by the male sitting in front of them. To Rossi, the way Doctor Reid spoke was almost familiar - like how Hotch had described his newest messaging friend.

When Prentiss and Rossi leave, Spencer gets up and heads to the bathroom, but pauses halfway there to look at Ethan who was hovering at his side.

"I'm going to shower then head to the station and see if they need my help."

"What? Spencer, you need to take it easy!" Ethan objects, spluttering as his hands came up as if to block Spencer's way, though the movement is aborted halfway.

"I don't care. Ethan, this guy killed my neighbors and nearly killed me too. I need to make sure he's caught before anyone else is hurt," Spencer explains, eyes bright.

Ethan sighs, resignation noticeable as he whispers out "Fine."

"But only if I go with you," he continues, arms now crossed along his chest in defiance. Spencer chuckles.

"Okay."

* * *

"Reid, what are you doing here? You need to be at home healing," Robertson asked.

"I'm here to help." Spencer raises an eyebrow in challenge, Ethan shrugging when Robertson looks over at him for help.

"Fine, but only if Ethan sticks with you in case something happens. Everyone is in the Big Room."

The two follow Robertson to the room, recognizing the two agents Prentiss and Rossi already sitting in there. However, Robertson brings them to someone else, who Spencer immediately realizes is likely the BAU's head agent.

"Agent Hotchner, this is Doctor Spencer Reid and his friend Ethan," Robertson states. "Doctor Reid is a consultant who helps us on cases frequently."

"It's nice to meet you, Doctor Reid, I assume you will be helping with this case then?" Hotch speaks easily, his smooth voice and strong handshake sending pleasant tingles along Spencer's skin.

"Nice to meet you as well, Agent Hotchner." Spencer smiles faintly. "The handshake actually dates back to the 5th century B.C. in Greece as a symbol of peace to show neither person was carrying a weapon. It can also tell a lot about a person, from the way their posture and grip is perceived. Like just now, you had a perfect handshake - showing you're confident, driven, and trustworthy, and -"

"Spencer," Ethan interrupts Reid's monologue, who stops talking with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I do that a lot." Spencer tilts his head towards the doorway of the Big Room, inviting Hotch and Ethan to enter before him. They pass by him, Hotch speechless from the introduction as he sits in a nearby chair. It wasn't difficult to recognize Spencer Reid's speech pattern, the habit of giving facts. Hotch was not expecting to find the person he's been texting so close to his own home. There hadn't been any further messages from the mystery texter, since the one saying they were checking on their neighbor the other night, and Hotch has been on edge with worry and panic waiting for a response. He'd attempted to distract himself with everything he could so as to not check his phone every few moments or send the other a message each time. The knowledge that this person he'd been texting is Reid now washes over Hotch like a bucket of cold water and he has to clutch the chair's arm in order to not rush to Reid's side and check the injury himself.

A moment later, Prentiss is standing in front of him with a smile, eyes knowing.

"So that is him then? The one you've been talking to," she asks, nodding towards the room Reid is now in.

"You knew it was him?"

"Only after he started to really talk during the interview. He fits your description to a T. So… what are you going to do now? You like him right?" Prentiss settles onto the edge of the desk as she talks, and Hotch hesitates but knows she means well, and decides to be honest.

"I fell in love. I'm not sure when exactly, but I did, and seeing him - talking to him in person - just amplified that. I don't know how it happened." He lets out a small chuckle, rubbing a hand across his face harshly as J.J. calls out to them, her head poking out of the Big Room's doorway.

Prentiss smiles while straightening back up to head towards the rest of the team. "The heart is mysterious like that. Follow it, and it will lead you to happiness."

* * *

It's three days later when the case is finally solved. Reid, having realized who Hotch is, has been skittish around the man the whole time, not knowing what to do or say. Though it's obvious to Reid that Hotch knows too, it's also clear that he doesn't know how to bring it up either. When the BAU team is headed back to the hotel they're staying at, Hotch stops Reid before the man can get into the car, Ethan still a little behind them talking to Morgan.

"Reid. I was wondering if you would be open to having breakfast together in the morning? Just the two of us."

"Oh! Um, yeah, okay. I would be happy to get breakfast with you. Just… text me the time and place?" Spencer hesitates slightly towards the end of his response, not knowing how Hotch would react to the suggestion. However, Hotch smiles at him, nodding.

"Okay." Hotch turns to leave, only to turn around after reaching his own car, watching with a twist of knots in his stomach as Ethan makes Reid laugh as they drive away. Hotch knows it's jealousy, but ignores it.

The following morning Spencer wakes with a weak groan, hand flapping about sleepily as he searches for the ringing phone. After finally locating it under the blanket, he flips it open and blearily eyes the screen.

_From : Hotch 7:00 a.m._

_ Hey. Good morning. How about the Riverside Cafe at 9?_

Spencer grins, slipping out of the bed while typing a reply.

_To: Hotch 7:03 a.m._

_ It's a date (: _

His hand shakes while sending it, face burning red. While not sure how the older man feels, Spencer is willing to take the chance that just _maybe _he feels the same. Taking the time to get ready, and look halfway decent, Reid heads to the Cafe, nerves running along his limbs.

It's easy to spot Hotch once inside the small building, the scent of coffee and donuts smacking Spencer in the face. He quickly walks over to the counter and orders a coffee with enough sugar to potentially take up a third of the cup on its own, before sitting down across from the other male, a box of doughnuts sitting in the middle of the table.

"Help yourself. I didn't know what ones you'd like so I grabbed a variety." Hotch gestures towards the box, and Reid picks up a chocolate glazed one. "How is your injury?" he asks almost awkwardly.

Spencer smiling softly. "It's better, almost completely healed now."

"That's good." Hotch smiles in return. The conversation continued to flow for the next hour. Both cups of coffee are refilled twice - the box of doughnuts quickly emptied as they lose track of time.

The conversation eventually slows to a stop, Hotch catching Reid's gaze and holding it as he tries to convey everything in those seconds, his hand slowly reaching out to connect with Spencer's own. He gives the other time to move away, and when he doesn't, Hotch sighs softly as their fingers lace together in a soft grip.

"Reid...Spencer… I need to tell you before there isn't another chance to. I'm in love with you, and have been for a while now. It might be fast or too presumptuous of me, but there's still an open position in the BAU that you can apply for. I know that you would be accepted for it. I could help you find a place to live that's closer to the office. Or… you could move in with me. If you want."

The more Hotch says, the further Spencer can feel his eyes widen and the faster he feels the racing of his heart. None of that had been what Spencer was expecting to come of this date, but it is so much better than simply telling the other male how Spencer loves him, expecting to be rejected. Taking a deep, slow breath, Spencer can't swallow the small grin that takes over.

"That...that's a lot to take in. First, I want to say that I love you too. However, I will need to think about applying for the BAU and moving. I hope that's okay?" Spencer says, unsure, but there's a gentle squeeze to his captive hand that calms his nerves again.

"I understand. I will wait for your decision." Hotch's eyes crinkle slightly in the corners with his smile, love and happiness clear in his eyes. They talk a little bit longer, before Reid has to leave to help on a new case. As they say goodbye outside, Spencer kisses Hotch on the corner of his mouth, before sliding into his car.

Two weeks later Spencer's wound is completely healed and he is cleared for field duty, so he begins packing his things in preparation to move. A week before he had put in his application for the BAU, and it didn't take long to be hired. Reid wasn't surprised when the process was overseen by someone other than Hotch - something he counted on, even.

A total of three weeks have gone by since Spencer met Hotch in person for the first time, when Spencer gets off the plane in the nearby city: Quantico, Virginia. He takes the time to make sure all of his stuff made it to his new home before heading to the BAU precinct, intent on greeting his new boss.

Walking into the building, he gets excited grins from the rest of the team, Prentiss pointing him in the right direction towards Hotch's office. Giving a nod of thanks, he quickly walks up the steps, not stopping until the cracked open door to Hotch's office greets him. A faint knock and a responding "enter" prompts him to walk in, shutting the door behind himself.

Hotch looks up from his work, expecting one of his teammates, only to find Spencer smiling at him instead.

"You're - you decided?" Hotch stood, closing the distance between them with only a few steps.

"I'm your newest teammate, and my stuff is all settled into the new house nearby. Of course, I could still move somewhere else, or I have space for an extra person." Spencer shrugs, not moving away from the close proximity between them.

"I thought it would take longer for you to decide." Hotch raised a hand, laying it on the side of Spencer's cheek.

"Well… it wasn't so difficult to decide after all." Spencer whispers, closing the distance between them, lips meeting in a soft kiss before parting and meeting once more, the kiss growing deeper and just that much sweeter for the both of them.


End file.
